


Coping

by anasticklefics



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29242602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anasticklefics/pseuds/anasticklefics
Summary: Diego notices Klaus will gently tickle himself when he’s stressed out or upset.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Kudos: 10





	Coping

Diego, perpetually uncomfortable with his own emotions, had a habit of glancing at whomever he was experiencing a particularly distressing moment with in order to observe their reaction. Were they in shock, or crying, or angry, indifferent, or simply just annoyed - Five was usually the latter - and then he would adjust his own reaction accordingly. As a child, stuttering, terrified, definitely not as tough as he’d wanted to be, he’d heard that crying was a weakness, over and over, so when all he wanted was to curl up in a ball and bawl his eyes out, his siblings usually had other ways of coping. Who was he to show such weakness that would never be shared?

So whenever something happened to them - terrible, irritating, surprising - he always glanced at someone else. That was how it started.

Klaus wasn’t one to openly show his true emotions either. He usually disguised it in comments, exaggerated reactions, eye rolls, but Diego knew there was more to him. Not that seeing Klaus actually break down wasn’t fucking terrifying to him, but he felt like the subtle moments, the ones he wasn’t actually supposed to witness, were almost worse.

And yet Diego couldn’t stop looking.

It wasn’t an obvious coping mechanism, for that was what he assumed it was, but Diego had turned his gaze to him in the exact right moment, catching the exact right movement, and only blinked once before realizing what he was seeing. It wasn’t a secret that his brother had a thing for- well, touching, to be frank. All forms of it. Sometimes Diego wondered if he would be able to count the amount of hugs he’d shared in his life on two hands had it not been for Klaus and his need to be touchy feely. But it wasn’t just shoulder bumps and embraces and hands in his hair, but sometimes it was annoyances such as fingers on his ribs, his knees, his neck; knowing exactly how to move against Diego’s skin to get him to let out sounds he wasn’t too fond of emitting.

Diego had once just found the occasional tickling annoying. Now he knew it was part of how Klaus loved and wanted to be loved, as strange as it felt to think of it that way. He had to admit it was great fun turning the tables, which Klaus obviously didn’t seem to mind anyway.

It was funny how long it took Diego to realize that it also brought him comfort. Maybe not just the unbearable sensation of it, though he’d seen Klaus’ hand stray to sensitive areas too. But sometimes he was just rubbing at his wrist when he thought no one was watching; enclosing it as if the hand belonged to someone else who needed something to ground them.

Other times, he was fluttering his fingers so very lightly that even _Diego_ shuddered as he watched them skitter over his thigh, his belly, at one point even his foot. It was when things had calmed down and everyone had scattered after something upsetting that he became bolder in his choice of body parts, not realizing that Diego was watching (or, if he was, seemingly not caring about it).

On that particular day, they happened to be shot at together, fleeing the bullets together, and then eventually hiding behind a dumpster together. Klaus was muttering something to Ben, but Diego was so distracted by his own anger at having to run away from action that he didn’t catch a single word. It was only when Klaus grew quiet that he glanced at him, words he’d already forgotten dying on his tongue when he caught sight of him.

Klaus had his back pressed up against the dumpster, eyes on the building before them. Even though Diego knew what he was about to do, the silence disturbed him. The unblinking eyes, the stiff body and shallow breathing. A breakdown he was doing everything in his power to stop before it even started.

Diego watched him move a hand to his throat, holding onto the skin for a second before releasing it, his nails running over the tender area in the process. Trying to cover the movement up, or simply just moving his hand without thinking of it.

Diego watched him move the hand up to the area beneath his chin, his head lifting to give it better access while he ran his index finger and thumb gently over the skin. His breathing was calmer, eyes still on the wall of the building.

Diego watched his other hand find his ankle, fingertips running back and forth over the skin in a way Diego knew drove him crazy when done by others. How he wanted to reach out and tickle him for him; make him giggle in that way he couldn’t help. Maybe even go for his worst spots, which Klaus hadn’t reached for. Too obvious, maybe, or the situation not upsetting enough to require them.

Diego watched him and realized it brought him comfort too. Realized he didn’t want to intervene because it calmed him down just as much to watch Klaus calm himself down.

Klaus dropped his hand from his neck, the other one still lingering at his ankle, but swiftly turning from movements to merely gripping the bone. Finished, all in the matter of a few seconds.

When Klaus turned to meet his eyes there was something there Diego couldn’t quite interpret. A timidness, almost. A vulnerability.

Diego said, “Let’s get out of here before they come back,” and they did.

* * *

It wasn’t that Diego hadn’t tried it on himself, but he disliked the sensation too much to find any comfort in it. What sold him about tickling was the joy of it. The closeness of it. For Klaus the sensation seemed to be part of it, too. He would never understand it, but who was he to judge?

Klaus caught him trying it out, once, after a fight with Luther had left him shaking with anger. But Klaus had been there and Vanya had been there and Allison had been there, and despite what people thought he didn’t want to be a temperamental asshole all the time and thus had tried to calm himself down. The hand on his ribs had been automatic; having observed Klaus enough to not even think about it when his fingertips collided with his ribs.

Klaus just so happened to catch his eye as he realized that, no, this wasn’t calming him down at all. Usually vocal, Diego expected him to comment on it, but he remained silent, eyes turning away a moment later with a question still lingering in them. He wasn’t sure what Klaus thought. If he was making fun of him, or if he’d even realized what Diego had been trying to do. He rubbed at his skin to get the sensation out, not looking at anyone; still pissed, still itching to stab someone. The slight tickle had made it all worse, and in a moment of rage he wondered what was wrong with his brother for enjoying it.

He regretted the thought only minutes later and caught Klaus in a tickly headlock to make up for it later that day.

* * *

The next time they were stuck alone after something distressing, Klaus wasn’t doing anything to calm himself down. The closet was small, their faces mere inches apart as they were forced to press up against each other. Diego couldn’t hear anyone, but didn’t dare risking it and emerge just yet. Klaus had a similar idea, if his lack of talking was any indication. Diego could feel the adrenaline radiate from him and realized he was waiting for Klaus’ hands to find a sensitive body part only when Klaus ended up not doing so at all.

“It’s okay,” Diego found himself saying, voice low, barely there. “You can do it, I don’t care.”

“Do what?”

“You know.”

“Stop talking in riddles.”

“Klaus.”

Klaus exhaled, disguised as a huff, but coming out too shaky for Diego to buy it.

Diego grabbed his wrist, an easy task in the enclosed space, and brought it to his brother’s side. “Go on.”

“Diego.”

“I’m not judging, I promise.”

Whether it had been the fight, the chase, the fear for his life or the fact that they had to keep quiet that made Klaus comply without another word, Diego didn’t know. All he knew was that when he let go, Klaus’ hand remained in place, fingertips moving gently over his shirt. The movements grew bolder, but Klaus refused to look Diego in the eyes as he ran his nails up and down, side to side. Diego knew if he himself reached out and pressed at the area just beneath the hollow of his arm, so easily accessible here, his brother would spasm and laugh.

But Diego saved that for when their lives weren’t in danger.

* * *

“How did you know?”

“I know many things.” Diego smirked at him just because he could. “Specify.”

Klaus’ huff of annoyance was dampened by his flushing cheeks, which was such an unusual sight that Diego nearly felt speechless for a second.

“You know,” he said, mimicking Diego’s words from the previous night.

“I do,” he relented. “I just noticed it was something you did.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Not particularly.”

“Ah.” Klaus was attempting nonchalance, and though it had never worked with him Diego didn’t comment on it. “Well, there are stranger ways of coping, huh? Trust me, I have many of them.”

“I prefer this way.”

“Do you?”

“It’s harmless, so yes.”

“I saw you try it out.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t for me.”

“Shame.”

“I’ll leave it to you.”

“To do it to myself or to you?”

Diego felt himself flush now. A stupid reaction. “Shut up.”

All vulnerability was gone and Klaus’ grin was lethal. “It’s been a while since I tickled you, Diego.”

“I _will_ punch you.”

“Sure you will.”

He did, while giggling beneath him minutes later, but it wasn’t on purpose, despite what Klaus thought.

* * *

Klaus was tied up and Diego couldn’t loosen the fucking knots and Klaus was visibly panicking more by the minute and it was making _Diego_ panic even more.

“Stop squirming,” he snapped. “They could be back any minute.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for not enjoying myself,” Klaus retorted, voice too weak to be a proper sneer in it. “They don’t know how to tie someone up without making it hurt, those two.”

“I don’t want to hear more.” Diego’s fingers were sore, his knives taken from him, and he was very close to sitting down on the floor to weep if he was being honest. “Jesus, I can’t stop fucking shaking.”

“Relax.”

“ _You_ relax. It’s your constant writhing that’s stressing me out.”

“How exactly do you suppose I should calm myself down here?”

They seemed to think of it simultaneously, eyes meeting in question, and then in agreement.

“I allow it,” Klaus said, pulling at his trapped hands behind his back. “But leave my feet and belly out of it.”

Diego didn’t need to be told twice, fingertips gliding over the exposed parts of Klaus’ ribs, his other hand going for his neck, and it was only a ten second job before Klaus would start giggling, which wasn’t the point this time, but it was enough to calm them both down enough for Diego to free him, finally.

“I like your coping mechanism,” he said later, both of them running through a hallway, out of breath and way too exhausted, but free and unchased. “It’s effective.”

“Of course it is.” Klaus’ voice was choked from the exertion. “Not everything I do is self destructive.”

Diego actually believed him.


End file.
